A Late Start
by Narnboy
Summary: A prequel of sorts to a story I'll never continue. Three Chapters total, feel free to continue when the third is up. - I own nothing except the premise, which I freely share. Rated for safety, Passing mention of child abuse, death.
1. Too Late The Rescue

**A Late STart**

Too Late The Rescue

(June 1991) Minerva McGonagall was concerned. No, she was more than concerned; she was anxious, fearful, and apprehensive. After warning Albus Dumbledore back in November of 1981 about the household they were entrusting the savior of the Wizarding world in, she now had the total lack of response from Harry Potter after sending him his acceptance letter for the next Hogwarts school year. The spells that chose and delivered the letters were automatic. She never even saw the envelope for young Potter before it was mailed. But part of the spell notified her when the letter was opened, letting her know that it was received. Most of the letters were opened within minutes of being opened, the main exceptions being when the child was not home at the moment and the parents held the letter until the addressee could have the honour of doing it himself.

Mr Potter's letter, however, was marked as delivered and destroyed unopened. Knowing the importance of getting that particular student into school she took control of the spells and sent a new batch of letters out. While she still did not have access to the envelopes before they left the Owlery, she did have power over _how many_ letters were sent to that address. She had hoped the dozen sent in the second attempt would bring more success.

When all twelve were marked destroyed, she took severe measures and sent a third batch, this time setting the number of copies at two hundred. There was no way the muggles could destroy all of them before young Mr Potter opened one.

After two days of not seeing a single envelope opened, she had had enough. She left a note on the Headmaster's desk telling him she was going to investigate a communications problem and put on her travelling cloak. Since Dumbledore had ignored the situation for ten years, she would present him with a problem solved rather than give him the chance to dillydally around this time.

Apparating to the general area that she remembered the Dursleys' house as being in, she took a few moments to mentally compare how it had changed in the decade since she had last been there. All of the houses looked well maintained, the yards neat and proper. She saw several children younger than Harry would be now playing in a park set up in a vacant lot. In other words, not much had changed except the number of houses present.

Walking down the street she finally came to the intersection with Privet Drive, the location of the muggle house she was looking for. Without even looking she could tell exactly which one was number four. It was the one that was trimmed to perfection. No straggly branches on the hedges under the windows, no marks or smears on the windows, every blade of grass seemed to be the exact same length in height. It was the ultimate in perfection, if your idea of perfection was complete lack of creativity.

Stepping up to the door, she knocked briskly. Allowing two minutes for someone to answer the door, which they didn't, she knocked again. Again permitting several minutes for an answer, she finally stepped back from the door and looked closer at the house.

The blinds were drawn, and muggle curtains could be seen hanging limply behind them. The 'garage' door was closed tightly, unlike the others on the street which were cracked to allow some of the July heat to escape. She transformed her ears to their feline form and tried to hear any noises from inside or behind the building, with no success. Quickly returning to her normal shape, she turned and walked back down the cement walkway towards the street.

Once there she walked over to number three and again knocked briskly. This time she received an answer almost immediately from inside, and the door opened but moments later. Introducing herself without any of her titles Minerva asked the tenant of number three (a Mrs Brainerd) if she had any information on when the Dursleys would be home. The reply left the Hogwarts instructor panicking like never before.

"Are you from Child Welfare? Lord I hope so. It's just tragic what some people do as guardians these days. The Dursleys are at the funeral for their nephew. Knowing that lot, they'll be home around six tonight, stuffed to the gills and swimming in liquor."

"I'm sorry, but no, I'm not from Child Welfare. Are you saying Harry Potter is dead? How did it happen?" Minerva's frantic reply had Mrs Brainerd inviting her inside to discuss the matter sitting down.

From her host's slightly disconnected explanation, with the witch's extra knowledge of what may have provoked it, apparently Harry had fallen down the stairs and broke his neck within hours of the third batch of acceptance letters arriving. Minerva could only presume that one of his relatives had caught him with a letter and hit him, knocking him over the banister. After a few more prodding questions, she came up with the location of the cemetery the poor boy's body was being interred at today, along with the fact the funeral had ended over two hours ago. Mrs Brainerd also expressed the opinion that the Dursleys would play on the tragedy for months, using the sympathy to get preferred treatment from their neighbours. It shouldn't be assumed that the tactic would work, seeing how horribly they treated their ward his entire time in that house.

Giving her condolences to Mrs Brainerd on the loss of her neighbour (the only one worth knowing in that household), Minerva left and quickly made her way back to the spot she had apparated in at. Letting a new location fill her mind, she left the same way she arrived, only to reappear at the Leaky Cauldron in London. Tom, sensing the fury in the powerful witch, quickly gave her clear apparating instructions to the cemetery she was looking for, and held back any questions he might have had.


	2. McGonagall Express

McGonagall Express

On the morning of September 1st, 1991, Professor McGonagall was at Kings Cross train station in downtown London. She checked a very large trunk into the baggage compartment and boarded the train before any of the students arrived at the station. Settling into a seat in a corner of the prefects' car, she pulled out a book and started reading. As the prefects began showing up at 10:30, she unfalteringly ignored each and every one of them. Her silence lasted through the train starting up, the entire prefects' meeting, and only broke when the trolley cart came by. She purchased two of every item available from the trolley, and put them into a small basket after the trolley moved on.

When the train finally pulled into the station at Hogsmeade she stood up and followed the students off of the train. Pausing at the top of the steps she caught the eyes of Rubeus Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, and on this trip the staff member to usher the first years up to the school.

"Minerva!" he bellowed, "There ye are!"

"Hello Rubeus. Were you looking for me?" she replied in a normal tone.

"No, but th' headmaster's been turning th' place upside tryin' to fin' ye. Sumptin' about reporters an' ministry officials showing up with written invites in his name." While Hagrid tried to lower his voice, you can only lower a half-giant's voice so far.

"Well, I hope he had the sense to set a table up for them off to the side of the staff table. I left him a note about it before I left," she said sternly. "I'll see you at the castle, Rubeus. I have matters to take care of."

Seeing as the students were almost all gone from the station, she sighed heavily and walked slowly over to the baggage car to retrieve her trunk. After one last look around to make sure the depot was empty, she levitated the trunk to waist height, rested her hand on it, and proceeded to walk up to the castle.

Arriving at the great hall she saw Albus and the new Minister of Magic, a Cornelius Fudge if she remembered correctly, standing near the doors. Letting her burdens down to the ground, she walked over to the two men, carefully schooling her face to a peaceful passivity she didn't feel.

"Minister, Headmaster. Good evening."

The minister just nodded his head as Dumbledore started saying, "Ahh, Minerva, there you are. I've been looking for you all day."

"Did you try checking your messages on your desk? You would have found out where I was if you had," she replied coolly. "Perhaps if you paid a little more attention to the details, your image of the greater good would create itself."

Albus Dumbledore gave his deputy headmistress a startled look. The minister's look was more appraising, almost as if he had found a potential colleague for his new position.

"If you don't have anything urgent, Headmaster, I need to finish up my errand before the Feast starts. See you inside, Minister Fudge." Leaving the two shaken men to stare at her back, Minerva walked across the landing and to the steps where the first years would soon be arriving at the great hall.

Stepping around a corner, she broke into a run through the still empty halls, trying to get to the potions dungeon before Professor Snape left them for the feast. She arrived just as the stern looking man was locking the doors of his office.

"Severus, I'm glad I caught you," she exclaimed as she slid to a stop.

The man in question was in as bad a mental state as she arrived as the previous two men were when she left them. He had never seen the transfiguration professor move in anything less than a dignified stroll when students were in the school, and for her to be running in the halls and sliding in her heels was a sure sign of disaster.

"I need you to bring the first years into the great hall to be sorted. Do _not_ let Albus know until you actually walk in with them," she panted, a little out of breath from her unaccustomed speed. "I can't explain now, but it is urgent that I finish resolving a problem before the feast starts."

"I expect full details later, then. Mmm, maybe I can impress enough of them on the seriousness of becoming Slytherin house before the sorting. I will let you get on with your problem." He sauntered off, apparently happy at the thought of _impressing _the first years.

Leaning against the stone walls of the castle, Minerva gathered her strength while going over the situation one more time in her head. Finally she stood up straight, disillusioned herself into invisibility, and followed Professor Snape back to the great hall.

Arriving just as the doors opened and Severus ushered the eleven year olds inside, she silently prayed, "Merlin, give me strength to get through this."

Waiting for the actual sorting to begin, Minerva levitated the trunk she had brought with her on the train.

Opening it, she gently lay one hand on its contents, and then brought out a solid gold stretcher that she had transfigured two weeks before. Ornately decorated with heroes of the Wizarding world, with a silver cushion at one end, and a silver mesh sheet folded at the other, she laid it on the floor and then, using only her own strength, lifted the contents of her burden out and onto the stretcher. She then used magic to send the trunk back to the doorway where she had stashed it earlier.

She stood up and listened for the sounds of the Sorting ceremony already in progress. As best as she could guess, the Sorting Hat had just finished its annual song, and the Headmaster was just starting to read through the names. Knowing exactly which names were on the list, she figured she had almost fifteen minutes before she could finish her 'errand'.

She snorted. 'Errand of mercy? Not quite. More of an errand of contrition for not forcing the headmaster to look at the details ten years ago.' Her internal rant at Albus was interrupted by a sound of metal echoing through the halls of Hogwarts.


	3. Sorted, Sorta

Sorting, Sort Of

"Parvati Patil!" the headmaster's voice rang out.

The young girl replaced her twin on the Sorting Stool. A moment later the Sorting Hat yelled out, "Gryffindor!"

Parvati gave an apologetic look at her Ravenclaw twin sister, and then moved towards the Gryffindor tables to meet her new housemates.

"Harry Potter!" boomed the headmaster.

An excited murmur went through the great hall. "Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived? Here? Why didn't we see him on the train? Where is he?"

Minister Fudge looked pleased. He had just found out why he had been invited to the Sorting Feast, unlike any other Minister of Magic. He was to greet the Boy-Who-Lived!

All of the house ghosts froze in place. Looking around, they felt a emotion ringing through the castle, calling to them. They floated to their respective house tables and hovered five feet over them.

Severus Snape's face twisted in contempt. Whatever emotions the name Harry Potter evoked in him, excitement surely wasn't one of them.

Headmaster Dumbledore looked around curiously, as no one had moved towards the Sorting Stool. "Harry Potter, please step forward."

The doors of the Great Hall of Hogwarts swung open slowly but deliberately. All eyes turned towards the doors, looking for their first glimpse of The Boy-Who-Lived. A small sigh of disappointment filled the air as Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was seen in the doorway.

Looking around slowly, Minerva stood silently for thirty seconds. She then took one step forward, a step that had a metallic echoing quality to it. Striding forward at a measured rate, each step was echoed in metal.

Those closest to the doors stood in awe as they realized where the echoes were coming from. Three steps behind the professor marched three pairs of armoured suits, perfectly in time with her own tread. As more and more students rose at the sight, the whispers in the hall also rose. Suddenly the entire staff table rose to their feet with a gasp and all sound from the students stopped.

Behind the six armoured suits came four more. These four carried the stretcher that Minerva had laid out just a short time before. On the stretcher, feet towards the staff table, lay the body of a small boy covered in the silver sheet. From his size, the students who had a clear look at him thought he was probably only nine years old. Bruises were clearly seen on his face and hands, and his face was frozen in a grimace of pain. Spread across the silver cloth were the many treats she had purchased on the Hogwarts Express train ride.

The older students put it together first. One by one, all of them knelt to one knee as the dead body of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the long-awaited saviour of the Wizarding world, passed down the aisle of the great hall. Behind the body, over fifty more suits of armour held formation. Once all of the armoured suits had entered the great hall, twenty-five gargoyles entered also. Behind them an innumerable swarm of house elves. The entire procession was deathly quiet; the only sound heard was the unavoidable footsteps of the armour.

"Presenting to the Sorting Hat Harry Potter." Minerva's proclamation broke the silence, as the pallbearers moved the body to the sorting stool, and balanced the solid gold stretcher on it. The room broke into shocked whispers and murmurs. One group seemed convinced that it had to be a prank, while a second declared that the professor would have no part of a prank like this. The rest just couldn't keep quiet and babbled incoherently.

Finally a loud voice silenced the rest. "Please set me on his head."

Minerva reached for the Sorting Hat just as Dumbledore finally regained his voice. "Now see here! This has gone on long enough," he shouted. His anger at the sorting routine being disrupted was evident to all.

"The Headmaster has called for Mr Potter to be sorted, Mr Potter has been presented for Sorting, and the Sorting Hat has confirmed the process," Minerva retorted loudly. "And if the Headmaster feels he can rewrite the laws and policies that this institution operates under on a whim, I suggest the Minister of Magic discuss the change with him in private."

Again silence reigned in the great hall. Minerva took advantage of the shocked room and lifted the Sorting Hat and set it gently on Harry's head. After five minutes of the Hat murmuring to itself, and seeming to consider the Sorting of the dead child seriously, it proclaimed its findings for all to hear.

"HOGWARTS! I proclaim this boy to belong to Hogwarts Castle. He is to be welcomed in all of the houses and treated as one of your own."

As the Hat fell silent on Harry Potter's head, the boy's spirit sat up and turned to face the room. At the same moment a figure appeared in the exact centre of the hall. Standing roughly six feet tall, the lady raised her arms and called towards the Sorting Stool, "Welcome Harry!"

Harry jumped off of the stretcher, well his ghost did, and ran towards the lady and received a firm hug. Moving him to her side, but never letting go of his shoulders, she led Harry back to the front of the room. Her body was solid looking to all present, yet she maintained a firm grip on Harry's ethereal shoulders. Her silver-trimmed gold dress moved and shimmered as she walked, and Harry kept pushing folds of it off of his legs.

The Minister of Magic decided to make his presence known. "May I ask who you are, Ma'am?"

"Of course. I am the Lady Hogwarts. I guide and take care of all of the students inside these walls. Take note; due to the injustices laid on this young man, he will now be considered my son. As such I insist he be well taught."

Turning towards the house tables she said, "Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, I assign you to teach Harry Chivalry and proper manners. Lady Ravenclaw, my dear friend, I assign you his education. You don't have to be his sole teacher unless you wish to be, but you are in charge of his schedule and classes. Baron, you are in charge of teaching him defence and strategy; remember he has a Dark Lord to defeat yet. Friar, you are charged with his health and appearance. Teach him what he needs to know. Peeves, where are you Peeves? Ah, Peeves. This is my son. You are tasked with teaching him how to entertain himself. He has had little luck with that before this and could use some encouragement." Looking around at the silent audience she had, she added, "As a matter of fact, Peeves, why don't you take young Harry out into the castle and show him how to prank some of the house dorms. I need some time with the living at the moment. Be back in one half hour."

After waiting for Harry and Peeves to make their way through the walls, Lady Hogwarts turned to the extra table near the staff table.

"Now then Minister Fudge. Please arrest Albus Dumbledore for gross negligence in the office of Mugwump, unnecessarily endangering children's lives, and for deliberately framing innocent men and having them sent to Azkaban." She stood there silently while the reporters' quills caught up to her and the staff's whispering settled down. She then began detailing the exact offences she was charging the headmaster with.

"If you check the records you will find that as Mugwump he has sent two men to Azkaban without proper trials. The first is Rubeus Hagrid, who he helped frame for the death of Myrtle Barker in 1943. Anyone who can't tell the difference between death by Basilisk and death by Acromantula doesn't deserve to pass their OWLs, let alone be headmaster of the school or Mugwump. The second is Sirius Black, who he framed for the death of Harry's parents. Under Dumbledore's orders Black was sentenced to life in Azkaban, without a lawyer, a trial, or even three drops of veritaserum. As for the gross negligence and endangering children's lives, he has known of a basilisk hidden in this castle since 1943; the same basilisk that killed Ms Barker. And I have it on good authority that he was warned what type of people he was leaving young Potter with before doing so, and ignored all advice otherwise."

Turning to the staff table she continued. "Deputy Headmistress McGonagall. Since the removal of the current headmaster has occurred inside the scheduled school year, you are automatically promoted to Acting Headmaster. The board of governors and the Ministry of Magic have no say in the matter. I expect you to fulfil my expectations of you so they have nothing to say next year either."

Finally turning back to the students, she said, "Please finish the sorting and enjoy your year. Remember I am watching out for all of you. And when you write your parents tonight, remember this. You have a ghost of a chance of surviving the return of Lord Voldemort. The Boy-Who-Lived is dead. That means the Death Eaters have nothing to frighten him with anymore. He WILL be victorious."

As she turned to walk back to the centre of the hall, the pallbearers lifted the stretcher and proceeded up the aisle, followed by the rest of the armoured suits and the rest of the witnesses summoned by the Lady Hogwarts. Many students had the presence of mind, and pockets full of treats, to toss gifts onto the stretcher for Harry Potter to enjoy.

As the last of the funeral party left the room, all attention was returned to the front by the voice of Headmistress McGonagall saying, "Zacharias Smith!"

HP HP HP HP

A/N: That is all I have to say on the subject. If anyone wishes to continue The Ghost Who Fought's story, feel free to carry on.


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